


Definitely not a Date

by Silvestria



Category: The London Life (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, George is uninterested, M/M, Monty is a movie star, Rome - Freeform, but who can resist a bit of swordplay?, horrible levels of innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvestria/pseuds/Silvestria
Summary: George did not expect to see his old school friend (friend? really?) Monty in Rome. But the appeal of nitpicking a historical epic might be enough to overcome his antipathy.





	

"What the _fuck_?" exclaimed a gratingly loud, posh, British voice that George unfortunately recognised.  
  
He turned around slowly and there, sucking a bright green coloured granita through a straw and leaning against the edge of a Bernini fountain like a modern day Michelangelo statue, was Monty Montgomery, terror of his happily distant public school days.  
  
"It is! It's Prefect George. I thought I recognised those shoulders!" He pushed himself off the fountain and slurped loudly.  
  
"What about my shoulders?" asked George uneasily.  
  
"Prematurely hunched from carrying too many books." George glanced down at the heavy carrier bag he was holding containing several large volumes on city planning under the rule of Trajan. He felt, as he often did whenever Monty spoke to him, unfairly targeted, if not personally attacked.  
  
"So," continued his old school nemesis, falling into step beside him as if they were actually friends, "what brings you to Rome?"  
  
George blinked. Wasn't it _obvious_ what he of all people was doing in Rome? Meanwhile, Monty stared at George and made that irritating and distracting sucking noise on his straw once again.  
  
"I study here," he said eventually. "At the British School in Rome. It's part of my PhD."  
  
"Oh, you do? Sure! Well, I'm here shooting," said Monty, looking unnecessarily smug about it.  
  
"Clay pigeons?" hazarded George and Monty burst out laughing. "A _movie_. You mean you haven't been following my meteoric career? George, I'm saddened and disappointed."  
  
George shrugged, not really surprised. He couldn't think of anyone else more likely to make it in Hollywood. His all-singing, all-dancing performances of Jesus and Miss Adelaide while at school remained permanently scarred on his memory. "Take back your mink" would never be the same again. Come to think of it, neither would The Bible.  
  
"It's a sword and sandals epic," Monty continued. "I play a barbarian slave captured in England-"  
  
"Britain," interrupted George between his teeth.  
  
"What?"  
  
"He would be captured in Britain. England didn't exist in Roman times."  
  
"Whatever, Perfect George. Anyway, I get to prance around in a very skimpy tunic wielding a very long sword and-"  
  
"That's historically inaccurate," interrupted George again, ignoring Monty's suggestively waggling eyebrows. "The Roman _gladius_ was notoriously shorter and wider than other contemporary swords."  
  
"Shorter and wider, was it?" repeated Monty, looking unexpectedly interested.  
  
"Yes, but much more effectual for thrusting at close quarters to the enemy," continued George, seizing his advantage. "A long sword may be impressive but it requires far too much space to swing it."  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
"Whereas the _gladius_ could be kept close to the body and used far more productively in a sharp, stabbing motion," he finished with an enthusiastic forwards lunge to demonstrate, even as he was becoming aware that Monty, while still keeping his eyes fixed on his face with the brightest attention, was nevertheless trying not to laugh.  
  
"It's clear you know a lot about this, George," he said seriously. "More than our historical advisor. You should come along tomorrow and put us all right. Watch the rehearsal."  
  
"Oh, I couldn't possibly," replied George. Belatedly, he felt embarrassed.  
  
"You should! Come on, are you doing anything more exciting tomorrow or is it just another long day smelling old books?"  
  
"Well-" began George, who had made tentative plans to Skype an interesting sounding girl from his university library the following day. She seemed very interested in what he had to say about Tacitus.  
  
"Exactly." Monty patted his arm. "You'll love it - you'll get to criticise lots of people all at the same time! You'll be in heaven."  
  
George doubted this very much but he was actually intrigued. "So if I were to go, where is it?"  
  
"Give me your number and I'll send you the details."  
  
George did this and Monty slapped him on the back. "This is going to be terrific fun. They'll love you. You're just the kind of weirdo who'd fit in on a film set. You might even get to be an extra."  
  
"Terrific," said George, feeling he had made a terrible mistake and wasn't entirely sure what had happened.  
  
Monty gave another disgusting slurp and suck at his rapidly melting granita. "See you later, Georgie. It's a date!"  
  
He swung off round another fountain, leaving George to clutch his carrier bag of books to his chest and mutter uselessly, "It's _not_ a date!"


End file.
